


a wonderful and different song

by worthitandchill



Series: bee's vault of unfinished fics [1]
Category: Buzzfeed: Worth It (Web Series)
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Additional Information in Author's Note, Fluff, M/M, Music, Pining, Playlist, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-04
Updated: 2019-12-03
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:54:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21664783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/worthitandchill/pseuds/worthitandchill
Summary: Andrew and Steven and a couple of playlists.“How can you not listen to music?” Steven all but explodes and, again, ignores everything Andrew just said. “Music is great! It’s fantastic! It’s the lifeblood of this world!”You’re so dramatic, Andrew thinks, and then says, “I listen to music sometimes. Like the royalty free stuff for the Tasty videos. Does that count?”This one-shot is unfinished and discontinued. Please keep that in mind before reading.
Relationships: Andrew Ilnyckyj/Steven Lim
Series: bee's vault of unfinished fics [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1561879
Comments: 5
Kudos: 21





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, wow, it's been a while. I haven't watched Worth It in a hot second, but [EJ](https://adamdrews.tumblr.com/) and I were reminiscing about our old works, so I decided to post some of the unfinished pieces that have been gathering dust on my laptop.
> 
> This is technically the first piece I ever wrote for Worth It, with Google docs telling me I started it on January 19th, 2018. I ended up losing steam halfway through writing this and decided to focus on "but it's always been you" instead, since the premise and unique style was much more enticing to me. Steven and Andrew's personalities aren't as fleshed out in this one when compared to my other pieces, but it was a fun starting point for figuring out how to write them! 
> 
> The second chapter contains the tracklists for what Steven put on Andrew's playlists, since I'm too lazy to make a proper one on Spotify. 
> 
> This fic is unbeta'd for the most part, so any mistakes are my own.
> 
> The title is from "Humming" by Turnover, which I would recommend listening to while reading.

“I burned so long and so quiet, you must have wondered 

if I loved you back. I did, I did, I do.”

—Annelyse Gelman,  _ The Pillowcase _

-

It starts when they’re somewhere over the Pacific ocean, seven hours into their fifteen hour flight to Australia. Andrew is browsing Facebook in the weird, ambient purple lighting when Steven sticks his head through the divide between their seats, looking way too chipper for someone currently trapped on a transcontinental flight.

“Andrew,” he half-whispers, as if shoving himself into Andrew’s personal space wasn’t enough to get his attention already. He must have just woken up, with the way his hair is flattened down on one side and his cheek is lined with pillow indents. 

“What?” Andrew says, voice pitched low enough not to disturb the other sleeping passengers. He should be asleep too, but being thirty-nine thousand feet in the air isn’t exactly helping him relax, even though the business-class seats are insanely comfortable and he’s taken about his weights worth in melatonin tablets. 

“What’s your favorite band?” Steven asks. He sounds completely serious and, as far as Andrew can tell, he’s not pulling his leg in the slightest. It makes him wonder if Steven woke up from a dead sleep with the insatiable urge to know Andrew’s musical preferences.

“I don’t have a favorite band.” Andrew switches out of Facebook and to his email instead, trying to pretend like he didn’t hear Steven’s tiny gasp of surprise. “You should go back to sleep.”

If he’s lucky and the stars have aligned, Steven will actually listen to him and drop the subject, because that’s what any normal human being would do. Andrew even musters up his best resting bitch face, which usually works in situations where someone is bothering him, but Steven either can’t read social cues or straight up doesn’t care, because he continues to inch his way further across the divide separating their seats. 

“You don’t have a favorite band?” Steven says, completely ignoring what Andrew just said, which further serves as another tic in Andrew’s mental box of reasons he doesn’t gamble: he’s got shit luck. 

“No. I don’t really listen to music.” Andrew doesn’t even look up from his phone as he presses the hell of his palm to Steven’s forehead, easing him away slowly.

“ _ What _ ?” Steven says, a little too loudly, and Adam shushes them from across the aisle. Steven’s tone is one that Andrew would attribute to someone being told that they had been cheated on—disbelieving, heartbroken, and full of hurt. 

It would be amusing, had Andrew not been able to tell exactly what that tone means, because contrary to popular belief, Andrew’s not stupid, and he  _ does _ pay attention to the people around him. Not to mention Steven’s an open book most of the time.

He risks a quick glance up, and nearly sighs when he sees the surprised-slash-determined expression on Steven’s face. It’s enough for Andrew to know that he’s gotten himself into something that he can no longer get out of, that he’s past the point of no return. He bites the side of his tongue and thinks,  _ dammit _ , because he’s already been Steven’s pet project once, back when he was dead set on them being “best friends,” and Andrew would rather not go through that again. 

“I don’t know what you’re currently thinking, but stop thinking it,” Andrew says. 

“How can you not listen to music?” Steven all but explodes and, again, ignores everything Andrew just said. “Music is great! It’s fantastic! It’s the lifeblood of this world!”

Steven falls back into his chair, arms flailing somewhat. He’s looking all wistful now, like he’s remembering something from his distant past, and it makes Andrew want to flick his cheek, just so the look will go away.

_ You’re so dramatic _ , Andrew thinks, and then says, “I listen to music sometimes. Like the royalty free stuff for the Tasty videos. Does that count?”

He leans back against his seat, sinking into his pillow, and tries not to smile when Steven lets out a huff of laughter. There’s a part of him that doesn’t want to encourage Steven, a voice in the back of his head that’s telling him to drop the conversation before he digs himself any deeper, but then there’s another part of him that’s enjoying it. It’s so easy, getting Steven riled up, and it never ceases to delight Andrew each time it happens, because Steven has such a one track mind that once he gets going he doesn’t stop, not until he’s worn himself thin. 

There’s something a little cruel about it, but that’s their friendship: poking and prodding and teasing, yet nothing that’s ever outright malicious. It’s comfortable. Easy.

(Adam called it flirting, once, but Andrew tries not to think too hard about it.)

“Wha— _ no _ . Royalty free music for work doesn’t count!” Steven pushes himself forward again, smacking Andrew’s hand away when he moves to close the divide on Steven’s neck, guillotine-style. “I’m going to make you a playlist to listen to so that you can cultivate your music taste, because this is a crime against humanity. Go ahead and download Spotify if you don’t already have it.”

“I think that’s going a little far,” Andrew says. He lets his fingers linger on the sliding plastic, nails tracing against the patterned indents. “Also I’m not downloading Spotify. I don’t have time to ‘cultivate my music taste,’ you know how busy we’re going to be these next few weeks.”

He uses the appropriate air quotes, watching how Steven disappears back into his own cubicle-thing. All in all it’s pointless whining, and Andrew knows it, but he’s never let Steven drag him into anything without putting up some sort of a fight beforehand, and he’s not about to stop that tradition now.

“We have eight more hours on this flight, and we already paid for the wifi, so you have literally no excuse right now. Plus I’ll make it a short playlist, okay?” Steven doesn’t poke his head back through, so Andrew can only assume he’s whipped out his phone and is currently making said playlist, immersing himself in his music. Andrew sighs, loud enough that he knows Steven can hear, and then he’s pulling out his phone again too, so that he can download Spotify, because he’s so, so weak.

But, all of what Steven said was true, because they did pay a ridiculous amount for the in-flight wifi and it’s not like Andrew’s going to do anything but sleep anyway, so now's as good a time as any for him to let Steven to get this out of his system. Plus it’ll make him happy, and it’s not that Andrew’s a people pleaser by any means, but a happy Steven is easier to work with and makes the show more entertaining for everyone involved, so. Andrew can do this. He can take one for the team. 

At least, that’s what he tells himself all through the process of making an account, and also when he has to dig to the bottom of his carry-on bag in order to find his headphones. Then Steven steals his phone and does some weird Spotify magic so that they’re both following each other, and when Steven hands him his phone back, there’s a playlist up on the screen that’s entitled  _ :) _ .

“You didn’t even use an actual emoji?” Andrew says, just so Steven knows that he’s still not happy about the whole situation. “And there’s only  _ three _ songs?”

“Why do you have to complain about everything?” Steven says, putting his own headphones in. “Just listen to them at some point and tell me what you think, okay?”

Andrew makes a show of rolling his eyes, but he’s holding back a smile, and he’s sure that Steven can tell. It’s nice, he thinks, to have someone make take time out of their day to make something for him, even if it’s something as small as a three song playlist.

He presses play and adjusts his pillow, curling up a little bit as the gentle guitar washes over him. It’s soft, the singers voice mixing well with the music, neither overpowering the other, and Andrew’s out a sigh as he closes his eyes and listens.

-

The rest of the flight was fine, all things considered. They alternate between sleeping and talking quietly, and Andrew listens to the playlist a few more times to try and get a proper feel for it. It’s good, and he likes it, all of the songs light-sounding and well-matched with one another.

He tells Steven as much when they’re exploring Sydney that first day. They’re all a little jet-lagged still, and even though Andrew’s back is sore from being stuck on a plane for fifteen plus hours, he can’t help but feel at peace with the world when Steven shoves an iced black coffee into his hands.

“Thanks,” he says, stabbing his straw through the lid. The first sip is delicious, and he lets out a low, pleased noise when he realizes Steven got his milk preference right. Steven gives him a warm smile in return, and then takes a drink of his own sugared up monstrosity, which Andrew only needs to take one look at to know that it’s filled with artificial sweeteners and caramel flavoring.

They’re sitting out in a park by the ocean, letting Adam get some random footage for the in-between montages before they go sightseeing. Filming technically starts tomorrow, and even though they’ll be existing in a state of gluttony for the next three or four days, work is still work when it comes down to it. Andrew’s just happy that they scheduled some extra time to act like proper tourists.

“So,” Steven says, leaning back against the wooden picnic table. There’s a nice, cool breeze coming off the water, ruffling his hair and making it flash between purple and silver in the morning light. “Did you like the playlist?”

Andrew hums, forcing himself to look out across the bay as something warms up in his chest. Steven always seems to have this glow about him—“my aura,” he’d said once, laughing—and sometimes, when Steven’s not paying attention, Andrew let’s himself stare. It feels like looking at the sun, like he’ll go blind if he isn’t careful.

“It was good. Helped me fall asleep on the plane,” Andrew says, only to regret it a half second later when he realizes that he sounds like an asshole.

When Andrew glances back at him though, Steven is smiling and looking rather pleased with himself, like it had been his goal to get Andrew to pass out on the flight over. Which, maybe it had been, because Andrew does have trouble sleeping on planes unless he’s doped up on a potent mixture of nyquil and sleeping pills. 

“Good! I tried to pick out songs that would be relaxing,” Steven says, and Andrew’s heart skips, just once, because in Steven speak, that means:  _ I thought about what you need and what you like when I was making it. _

Which, it’s stupid, how happy that makes Andrew, because of course Steven thought about him when he made the playlist. That’s kind of the entire point of making something for another person, so that they know you were thinking about them.

Andrew closes his eyes and tilts his head back slightly, absentmindedly picking at the flimsy lid of his coffee cup as he tries to think of something other than whatever the hell is going on with his heart at the moment. It’s harder than it should be, especially with how Steven keeps knocking their knees together, and Andrew’s seriously considering throwing himself into the ocean just so he won’t have to deal with this anymore, when Steven asks, “what was your favorite song?”

“The first one,” Andrew says immediately, before he can think about it too hard. He liked all of the songs, but that first one was… different. 

“Oh?” Steven says, and Andrew can hear the smile in his voice, which is endearing enough that he cracks an eye open, watching how Steven stretches his arms up above his head. “I like that one the most too, it has some really nice lyrics.”

There’s something in his tone that makes Andrew open both of his eyes, lips parting as he looks at Steven fully. “I don’t really listen to the lyrics,” he admits, a little sheepishly.

Separating lyrics from music is difficult for him, actually. There’s some mental block that prevents him from being able to properly divide songs up into their individual pieces, everything blending together into a mass of noise that he either likes or he doesn’t. It’s one of the reasons he doesn’t listen to music in his free time; it’s more background noise than anything else. 

“I figured. You seem more like a big picture type of guy.” Steven glances at him, giving him a wide grin before taking a sip of his coffee. “It’s not a bad thing.”

Andrew snorts, amused at Steven’s subtle reassurance. 

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” he says, then pauses, biting the inside of his cheek. “Should I try and pay attention to the lyrics?” 

“Not if you don’t want to.”

Andrew opens his mouth, ready to ask what that even means, when Adam suddenly materializes in front of them out of thin air.

“I’ve got enough for the in-betweens,” he says, camera bag balanced at his hip. Steven practically jumps out of his seat, handing Adam his own cup of coffee that Andrew had failed to notice before. 

“Awesome! Now let’s go look at the Opera House like tourists before we have to start working again.” 

Andrew stands up too, question dying on his tongue as Steven takes off towards the van, the spring in his step annoyingly endearing. He sighs, and falls into step beside Adam as they trail after Steven.

“What were you guys talking about?” Adam asks, voice quiet under the rush of wind in Andrew’s ears. 

“Nothing,” Andrew says. “Just music.”

-

Australia is good. It’s better than good, even, because they get to eat expensive food and drink expensive wine, and even if it’s not technically a vacation, it still feels like one after a certain point. A vacation where Andrew and Steven are attached at the hip, and even though he knows he shouldn’t, there’s some dark and twisted part of Andrew that  _ likes _ that aspect of it. He likes being around Steven, constantly trying to push him into the ocean, just to have an excuse to wrap his hands around Steven’s sides and pull him back to safety. It’s fun and carefree, and Andrew knows deep down, that if he wasn’t so good at compartmentalizing, he’d be royally screwed. 

But it’s fine, because he’s great at pretending any and all non-platonic feelings for Steven are a figment of his imagination. He files them away in a little box in the back of his mind, packed together and neatly labelled for organizational purposes. The whole “I like being on vacation with Steven” thing fits right between “he scrunches up his nose when he’s irritated, which makes my heart feel gross” and “would Steven be the big spoon or the little spoon?” and Andrew doesn’t even let himself worry about it, okay? He’s doing great. 

Plus, it’s not that he doesn’t like to think about any of it—who doesn’t like daydreaming about random romantic escapades?—but it’s easier for the sake of the show that he just… doesn’t. It’s better to just pack it all up and act like it doesn’t exist, because that way things aren’t awkward between the two of them, and the natural chemistry they have going isn’t destroyed.

But it’s so hard sometimes. It’s hard when Steven looks at him with  _ that _ expression, the one that usually shows up after they eat insanely expensive food, where he’s got stars in his eyes and a small, wistful smile on his face, like he can’t believe that his life is this good. It makes Andrew’s mouth go dry, his chest constricting like he might have a panic attack, and it’s somehow the best and worst thing he’s ever felt.

“Put the expression away,” Andrew says, right after they finish filming at the final location in Australia. They’re both in the back of the van, filled to the brim with steak, and Andrew’s more sated than he’s ever been in his life. The whole situation would be perfect if Steven would stop looking like someone handed him the entire universe, all dreamy and blissed out.

“What?” Steven asks. He tilts his head in Andrew’s direction, drowsy from the sheer intake of food, and Andrew wants to reach over and smack him, just so he’ll stop looking so soft.

Instead, Andrew waves his hand in Steven’s general direction. “This,” he says. “You look too happy. Stop it.”

It’s a little petty, even for a joke, and Andrew takes a deep breath, suddenly worried that he sounds ridiculous, critiquing Steven like this when the cameras are already put away. It’s something internet-Andrew would definitely do, jabbing his fingers into Steven’s side in the same shot, making him shriek and squirm. But it’s part of real-Andrew too, his tactile teasing that rarely comes out at work, yet bleeds over into his personal relationships.

Sometimes he doesn’t know where his internet persona ends and his real personality begins.

“You can’t tell me to stop looking happy after we ate amazing steak!” Steven says, laughing, and even though Andrew knows deep down that it’s a non-issue, there’s still a rush of relief that goes through him, that Steven knows it’s a joke.

His whole grumpy asshole thing is mostly a shtick anyway; he’s not as prickly as he likes to make himself out to be, but rather a little more gentle, a little softer around the edges. Not that he wants any of his co-workers to really  _ know _ that, much less have their audience figure it out, because he has an image to uphold. Even if it comes back to bite him in the ass sometimes.

(“You don’t think I’m an asshole, do you?” Andrew had asked Adam once, after reading one too many “Andrew’s such a dick” comments on the Worth It videos.

“No,” Adam had said, a thoughtful look on his face. “You just show love differently.”)

So maybe that’s why, in a fit of sudden and unbidden affection, Andrew pulls Steven into a headlock, giving him the best noogie he can manage with the awkward angle. It’s not the most comfortable thing; Andrew’s seat belt digs into the side of his neck as Steven screams and struggles to escape, but it makes Andrew laugh anyway, and then Steven is laughing too, one hand coming up to wrap around Andrew’s bicep.

“You’re the  _ worst _ ,” Steven says when Andrew finally lets him go, hair sticking in all different directions. They don’t shift away immediately, still huddled in close together, and warmth spreads up Andrew’s side from where they’re touching. It makes his head spin.

“The worst,” Steven says again, breathless. There’s a hint of glee in his voice that makes Andrew smile even wider.

“I know,” Andrew says, because he does. He knows, and Steven knows too, and that’s got to count for something, right? 

-

By some grace of god, it only took them six months to get into a steady groove when it comes to traveling. Seattle was a stitled mess behind the scenes, because the show was still young and it was just the three of them, and even though New York (the first time) was better, they didn’t truly hit their stride until Korea, when they’d been doing the gig long enough to know how to best organize each trip to maximize their filming opportunities. 

Not to mention that, once you leave the continent not once, but  _ twice _ , filming an episode in another state isn’t much of a challenge at all. Which is why New York (the second time) is so easy, because they basically just spend the entire day eating fried chicken and dicking around. 

“Should’ve brought Keith,” Andrew says. They’re sitting in a little bakery in Harlem, soaking up as much free air conditioning as possible until they have to go meet up with David for the final shoot of the day. After that they’re going to the hotel, and then back home, and then in a few weeks, they’ll be in Japan for the season three finale.

Andrew’s a little dizzy thinking about all of it.

“Well, this is what he gets for ditching the show back in season one; no fancy fried chicken for him,” Steven says, licking a streak of cream cheese frosting off his thumb. They’d both managed to demolish their cupcakes in less than a minute, and Andrew is content with not moving for the next decade. “Besides, I only bring my best friends on these adventures.” 

“Wow, I’m honored,” Andrew says, as deadpan as possible, which makes Adam laugh across the table, the sound stifled around a mouthful of cinnamon roll.

“You should be! Especially since Keith has a much better music taste than you. He’s best friend material.” Steven knocks their shoulders together, and then tries to stealthily lean across the table in order to steal a piece of Adam’s massive pastry. He gets his hand slapped away.

Andrew’s sure that there’s a “pure cinnamon roll” joke in there somewhere, but instead of commenting on it, he quirks an eyebrow and asks, “are you still on that whole music thing?” 

For a little while there, Andrew had thought that Steven had forgotten about it, or at the very least dropped the subject for both of their sakes. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy the playlist, because he did, enough so that he found himself listening to it at work when he didn’t want to be disturbed. It was just that he maybe enjoyed it a little  _ too _ much, which was counterproductive to Andrew’s entire system of convincing himself that he’s absolutely not interested in Steven in any way whatsoever.

“Well, yeah.” Steven rubs his wrist, half-heartedly glaring at Adam. “It’s my job to educate you on good music now.”

Andrew scoffs. “It’s absolutely not.” 

“You don’t listen to music?” Adam asks as he sweeps the cinnamon roll crumbs off the table and back onto the metal tray. He doesn’t sound surprised in the slightest.

“Just whatever's playing on the radio,” Andrew says.

Steven groans, as if the mere idea of top forty music had personally harmed him in some way. “There’s so much good music out there,” he says, flopping down against the table again, stretching his arms in front of him. His spine gives a satisfying  _ crack _ , and then he sighs, content.

“Sure there is,” Andrew makes an exaggerated face at the sound of Steven’s bones popping. He nearly reaches over to pinch Steven’s side but stops himself, if just because they’re in a fine dining establishment and he can hear his mother's voice in the back of his head, asking him if he “was raised in a fucking barn.” “There’s plenty of good music for you to enjoy and for me to listen to when you drive us to fancy restaurants.”

“That’s progress! You know what,” Steven is quick in pulling out his phone, “I’m going to make you another playlist.”  
Andrew says “Right now?” at the same moment Adam says “You made a playlist for him and not me?”, and Steven just gives them both a sly grin, head pillowed on his arm while he scrolls through his phone. 

“I have enough good music to go around boys, don’t you worry about it,” he says, his eyes practically sparkling under the sunlight slanting through the window beside them.

“I don’t think either of us doubted that,” Andrew says. “Also, don’t we have to meet up with David soon? You might have to put the music on hold.”

Adam checks his watch. “Yeah. We’re supposed to meet at 4:30. You guys ready?”

Truthfully, Andrew would rather stay in the air conditioning for the rest of the trip, but it’s rude to show up late, and David’s a good friend of the show. Not to mention he’s giving them an insane discount on the meal, so necessary sacrifices are being made on all sides.

They start to pack up, Andrew slinging his bag over his shoulder and collecting their cupcakes wrappers while Adam secures the sound equipment. Steven doesn’t move, still sprawled across the table with his chair sticking out behind him. The back of his neck is exposed, and Andrew’s breath hitches ever so slightly when he sees a lone freckle peeking out from beneath the collar of his jacket. 

It’s then, that there’s a blip in Andrew’s usually airtight compartmentalization, a thought that slips through the cracks and sends a hot flare of longing up into his chest. 

_ What would it be like to kiss him there? _

Andrew can imagine it, how it’d feel to press his lips to the tiny, darkened spot. He can imagine it, he  _ wants _ to imagine it, wants to immerse himself in the fleeting fantasy where he’s allowed to touch Steven like that. But he doesn’t. 

Instead, he reaches forward and digs his thumbnail into the sliver of skin at the base of Steven’s hairline. “That’s for not helping clean up,” Andrew says, trying to find distraction in Steven’s subsequent squeak of pain.

Steven tries (and fails) to hit the back of Andrew’s knees when the walk to Momofuku, and it makes all three of them giggle like they’re kids again. Then, when they get there, David lures them into a lavish trap of fried chicken and caviar, and any thoughts having to do with Steven and kissing are lost in the blissful haze of delicious food. 

It isn’t until Andrew is in bed that night, curled up underneath the thin hotel sheets, that he gets a text from Steven and thinks,  _ oh yeah _ ,  _ that happened _ .

He’s even more grateful now that he won the game of rock-paper-scissors that decided which of them would get the single and which of them would have to double up. If just because he doesn’t have to deal with Steven flopping down across his bed, asking if he got his text, as he’s prone to do any time they’re in the general vicinity of one another. 

Andrew smiles a little bit as he opens the message. It’s a Spotify link, and the message is accompanied with a winky face, which Andrew chooses to ignore for the sake of his sanity. The playlist is entitled  _ :D _ , with only three songs on it, and Andrew wants to laugh at the absurdity of the entire situation.

_ Go to bed _ , he texts back, right after he puts his headphones in.  _ We have an early flight tomorrow _ . 

And then, for no good reason at all, Andrew pauses, biting his lower lip. One of Steven’s songs is currently playing, a soft croon in his ears, and he thinks,  _ fuck it _ —he sends another text and locks his phone. It’s selfish in a way Andrew never thought he’d become, because he’s giving himself an inch, and he knows it’s only a matter of time before he takes a mile. 

_ Thanks. I know I’ll like this one too. _

-

“Have you ever had a thing for a co-worker?”

Andrew regrets asking the second the question leaves his mouth. He knows, generally speaking, that he’s not an idiot; he’s got a nice degree, a steady income, a healthy amount of internet fame, the whole nine yards. You don’t just get that kind of stuff by being a dumbass.

But then Adam slowly swivels in his chair to look at him, one eyebrow cocked upwards in an expression that reads,  _ what the fuck are you talking about? _ , and Andrew feels like a gigantic moron.

“Have _ you _ ?” Adam asks, his response a little quieter than usual, as if he were testing the waters. There isn’t any judgement in his voice.

“Um,” Andrew says, because he didn’t plan this far ahead when his caffeine-addled brain went _ you should talk to Adam about the Steven situation _ , to which he internally replied _ there is no Steven situation _ . Except there most definitely is a Steve situation, and Andrew was just arguing with himself in his own head, to the point that his mouth started moving before he could do anything to stop it.

It’s not like he wants to lie about it though, because Adam would know something was definitely up anyway, and then Andrew would have to live with the potential threat of Adam confronting him about it for the rest of his life. Not that he would, but Andrew isn’t willing to take any chances.

Adam’s starting to give him a funny look, so Andrew swallows his pride and says, “hypothetically?” 

It’s apparently an acceptable answer, because even though Adam’s eyebrows go up even further, he relaxes back into his chair.

“That doesn’t make sense,” he says, steepling his fingers together and resting them against his stomach. It reminds Andrew of a therapist. “But okay.”

They both pause, looking at each other, and then Andrew makes a short motion with his hand. “Well, what about you?” he asks again. If this was going to be awkward, then it was going to be awkward for both of them.

“When I was in college, yeah. We interned together.”

They talked about college sometimes, but nothing ever in-depth or personal. It wasn’t in either of their natures to do so; Adam was quiet and Andrew was reserved. They were both comfortable in the now.

It makes Andrew wonder just how well they truly knew one another.

“Oh?” he says, prompting. “Did anything ever come out of it?”

“No. I wanted to ask her out, but I didn’t want to ruin the relationship we already had, and I didn’t want to make work awkward either.”

The statement hits a little too close to home, and it must show on Andrew’s face from the way Adam tilts his head, concern gleaming in his eyes.

“What about you?” Adam asks, and then pauses, adding, “...hypothetically.”

Andrew can’t dodge the question again. It’s not fair to Adam, and it’s not really fair to himself, either. He needs to face it at some point, and now’s as good a time as any to start taking baby steps in the right direction.

“Hypothetically,” Andrew repeats. He swallows around the knot in his throat, suddenly exhausted even though it’s only ten-thirty in the morning. “I think I’m in the same boat you were in.”

It’s a small confession, but it feels huge and exhilarating, like he just ran a marathon without stopping. There was nothing different about him, really, but just  _ admitting _ that he kinda-sorta had a thing for Steven left him reeling.

“It’s… hard,” Adam says, oblivious to Andrew’s internal revelation.

“Yeah,” Andrew says. That was the understatement of the entire year.

Adam gives him a soft look, and then turns back to his desk. It’s quiet between them for a few moments, Andrew staring absently at his computer screen and clicking through a few random tabs without really processing anything that comes up. 

Really, it’s not like anything has changed. He’s still Andrew, Adam is still Adam, and Steven is still Steven. They’re the three musketeers, the worth it trio.

_ Worthage-à-trois _ , his brain supplies unhelpfully, which makes Andrew want to bang his head against the desk. He refrains, if just because Adam chooses that moment to start talking again.

“Hypothetically,” Adam says, tone careful and controlled, “what are you going to do about it?”

And isn’t that just the million dollar question? Andrew bites the inside of his cheek, anxiety bubbling up in his chest in a swift rush. He really should try and think of how he’s going to deal with the situation, because it could be detrimental to not only his relationship with Steven, but the future of their show, which could hurt both of their careers in the long run. But it’s so much easier to just not think about it, to pretend it doesn’t exist, sweeping it under the rug and continuing on like normal.

That’s not fair to either of them, Andrew  _ knows _ that, but he’s never been the best at handling his emotions, okay? It’s impressive enough that he even went so far as to talk to Adam about it, even if the entire thing was framed in hypotheticals. That deserves a pat on the the back in it’s own right.

Andrew sighs and rubs at his eyes. “I have absolutely no idea,” he says, because honesty is the best policy, and apparently he’s turning into Honest Andrew now.

It’s an Adjective Andrew subcategory, so it counts.

“I’m always here if you need to talk about any more hypothetical situations.” Adam’s lips quirk up into a small smile, which Andrew returns half-heartedly, and then they’re both sliding their headphones back on in order to try and get some work done.

The companionable silence between them lasts for all of five minutes before Steven materializes out of nowhere, shoving a folded piece of paper into Andrew’s hands and filming his reaction. It’s an invitation to brunch, done in a similar style to one of those elementary “ _ do you like me? circle yes or no” _ notes, and Andrew rips it in half in order to hide how his face starts to heat up. 

Steven’s ensuing gasp of surprise isn’t as satisfying as Andrew was hoping it would be.


	2. playlist tracklists

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Directly copy and pasted from my planning doc, the playlists titles are all emoticons because Steven is just Like That.

First Playlist - :)

  * Humming - Turnover (main song)
  * That Thing - Hazel English
  * All Of Me Wants All Of You - Sufjan Stevens



Second Playlist - :D

  * Tell Me Tell Me - courtship.
  * Drag - Day Wave
  * Loving Is Easy - Rex Orange County



Japan Playlist - :3c

  * Simple Season - Hippo Campus
  * Water - Ra Ra Riot
  * tokyo - joan



Angry Playlist - >:(

  * Did I Make You Cry On Christmas Day? (Well, You Deserved It!) - Peach Pit
  * Lose It - SWMRS
  * Tired Of Love - The Dig



Apology Playlist - sorry :/

  * Big Fat Mouth - Arlie
  * Work it on out - Haiva ru
  * My Thoughts On You - The Band CAMINO



Final Playlist - <3

  * Ti Amo - Phoenix
  * I Would - COIN
  * love somebody like you - joan



**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Kudos and comments are much appreciated. 
> 
> Feel free to point out any mistakes or inaccuracies. 
> 
> If you'd like to know more about the general plot of this fic, let me know! I finished the outline before I abandoned the work, so there's always that for a little bit of closure.
> 
> Come talk to me on my [tumblr](https://worthitandchill.tumblr.com/)!


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